


Storm Within

by Akariorukidea



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Pained!Connor, Post Rev!Markus ending, Very hurt and angry baby bots, enjoy this clusterfuck of a story, my buddies from the RK1K discord just brainstormed the heck out of this story one day, so I decided to bring it to life, so like
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 15:11:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15843864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akariorukidea/pseuds/Akariorukidea
Summary: Connor knew humans were violent creatures. But when that violence meant pain, in the death of his people, in losing the person he loved most, Markus helps him understand a new set of emotions: rage and revenge.





	Storm Within

The arms surrounding him were warm. Warmth that he wasn’t aware his sensors could actually process. He blamed deviancy for that, but couldn’t bring himself to feel upset about it while his own arms encircled Hank’s torso and he buried his face on the man’s shoulder. The hug was tight, and he could feel Hank’s caloused palm rub his back in a soothing manner that Connor decided he liked it. In fact, everything about this first experience with hugs was enjoyable, and the RK800 couldn’t help but to feel a jolt of happiness enveloping his mechanical heart once Hank’s gruff voice finally broke the comfortable silence that had settled between the two of them.

“I’m proud of you, son.”

Another wave of warmth engulfed the android’s body, while he slowly pulled away to meet the taller man’s soft gaze. Hank’s smile never left his lips, and his expression made it clear that the words he had just uttered were nothing but the honest truth. 

They started off with the wrong foot. Hank was bitter and wounded about his son’s passing, while Connor was mostly doing his best to be faithful to his programming (which Amanda so ‘kindly’ explained to be a scam) and hunt down those deviants, but as soon as Connor had allowed Rupert to escape that day on the roof in order to save Hank, the man’s attitude seemed to change, even if just a little. Connor easily noticed –nothing bypassed his absurdly evolved programming– and once he failed yet again to capture deviants, Hank didn’t chastise him. Hank said that maybe it had been better like this. Hank _approved_ of his decisions, just like he had approved of his decision not to kill Chloe in order to obtain information from Kamski.

Connor noticed that pleasing Hank was actually something he looked forward to do. As if something in the man’s approval meant the world to him, even though he couldn’t and _shouldn’t_ have been feeling those things. Androids didn’t feel.

However, _he did_. After all, even before allowing his walls to tumble down by Markus’ feet, Connor had already saved the godamned fish, hadn’t he? Amanda was right, they really had programmed him to deviate.

But none of that mattered, not while Hank clasped both his hands on the RK800’s shoulders and was looking at him with the softest expression he had ever seen the lieutenant wear since they’d met. There was pride and relief shinning in his blue eyes, and Connor couldn’t be happier to have been assigned to Hank Anderson to work on the deviancy case. At least for that, he could be grateful to Cyberlife.

“I take the whole uprising thing went well?” Hank asked lightheartedly, shoving his hands inside the pockets of his jacket. Connor nodded.

“I arrived in time, thankfully. One second more and Markus would have perished.” He frowned, the dreadful possibility leaving a bitter taste on his synthetic tongue, “He did cause quite a large amount of damage to the human’s forces, however.”

Hank released an impressed whistle, “Who would have thought wonder-bot had it in him to actually use brute force. I was surprised when I heard he finally decided to counter attack.”

“The news announcing the way androids were being exterminated might have had great influence in his process of  decision-making. Your kind seems rather fond of resorting to violence other than attempting anything closer to a vocal exchange, Lieutenant.”

Hank sighed at that, “Yeah, kind of the reason why our shitty asses are down in the gutter.” He then looked back at Connor, who had been brushing the lingering snow off his shoulders, “What do _you_ plan to do now, though?”

Connor interrupted his brushing, eyeing Hank with a thoughtful expression, “I am not sure. I thought about joining Markus in his endeavor to guide the androids to a better future, but I have changed my mind about that.”

“And why is that?”

Connor was assaulted with the imagery of a menacing blizzard and Amanda’s cold glare, which suspiciously matched the wrathful weather all too well. He saw himself deny her orders and desperately search for a way out, all while his outer body was slowly pulling a gun in order to execute Markus. He managed in the last minute, but he could have failed.

What if it happened again? He couldn’t take that chance.

He blinked the memories away, shaking his head slightly, “Regardless of my support, I have my doubts I am welcome amongst the exact deviants I have been chasing down.” It wasn’t a lie. He did remember the way some androids glared at him back at the church, causing him to huddle in a corner until Markus finally took notice of his presence, “So I suppose I have yet to find a place to stay, since I doubt I’ll be able to return the preccint after my little… public display of disregard for the rules.”

“Little?!” Hank snorted, “You marched fucking _thousands_ of androids into the city, Connor. That hardly qualifies as ‘little’!”

The RK800 smirked at that, “So I’ve heard.”

“Little shit.” The lieutenant shook his head, that same smile never leaving his lips, “You know, you can crash back at my house, if you want to. I could use the company.”

Connor’s eyes widened at that, “Lieutenant, I can’t–”

“Hank.” He interrupted.

“What?”

“Just call me Hank,” he said, diverting his gaze to the side while a hand came to rest at the back of his neck. “I think we are way past the formality bullshit, ya know?”

Connor felt that familiar feeling bloom inside his chest, “I… Alright, Hank.” He tested out the name, causing said man to grin. He was still having a hard time processing a not entirely moody Hank Anderson, “I am very grateful for the offer, but I wouldn’t impose my presence on you. I’m sure I can find somewhere else to settle on, perhaps Markus can help me.”

“Ya denying an old man some company? Come on, Connor.”

“I just don’t wish to cause you more trouble than I already have,” he said, head going back to the moment where his pariah held Hank at gunpoint. “I am not sure of my future, mainly after Markus chose a more… vigorous approach. The humans might attack at any moment, so I would rather if my presence wouldn’t inconvenience your life even further.”

Hank placed a finger in between his brows and then pinched the bridge of his nose, releasing an exasperated sigh, “Kid, I’m pretty sure I’m an adult and I can take care of myself. Will you stop being stubborn already and accept my offer?”

“I fail to see why you are being so persistent about this Lieu– Hank.” He quickly corrected himself as the older fixed him a pointed glare, “I, too, am fairly capable of defending myself.”

“Dammit Connor, will you just let me look after you for _once_?!” Hank finally demanded, causing Connor’s brows to shoot upwards and his confused complexion to melt into one of surprise. The older man huffed, firmly crossing his arms in front of his chest, “You know what, fine. Do whatever you want. I guess I’ll just return to my diet of soda and burgers for the time being.”

Connor scrunched his nose, “Those unsanitary menaces? Hank, I would advise you against consuming them on a daily basis.”

“Then come to live with me and keep me from doing it,” he repeated, shit eating grin returning to his lips, “Besides, I could use the helping hand, mainly regarding Sumo. That fur ball sheds all over my furniture.”

Connor couldn’t help the smile that spread across his lips; a feeling of contentment settling around his regulator and causing him to momentarily forget all the things that had taken place earlier that day. So Hank wanted him to go live with him? Was that what he really wanted? Connor couldn’t help but to think how pleasant that would be, mainly because he caught himself often worrying about the man’s health after noticing his eating habits. A man of his age _definitely_ shouldn’t be living mostly of alcohol, greasy burgers and oily doughnuts, not if he wanted to keep on living.

An image of a gun lying on the floor by a bottle of whiskey flashed before his eyes, startling his previously content thoughts. The idea of the man continuing to play a game of  life and death every night while only a bottle of whiskey and his apprehensive Saint Bernard kept him company, watching as his owner countlessly kept pulling the trigger and turning out lucky that no bullet lodged in his brain. He wouldn’t be so lucky forever, though, and the sudden worry that one day he might pass by to visit only to meet the body of an unmoving Hank slumped against his kitchen table immediately consumed his racing thoughts.

No. He just couldn’t let that happen.

He opened his mouth to accept the offer, but instead of his voice, a completely foreign and muffled one sounded, “Hands in the air!”

Connor and Hank immediately turned their heads around, only to meet five heavily armed men with rifles and body armor, much like the ones Markus faced back at the Hart Plaza. They had their guns pointed them, which caused the duo of detectives to frown while the soldier in the middle barked again, “I said, _hands in the air_!”

“What the fuck?” Hank sneered, looking at Connor, “I thought you people took care of these guys?”

“They were retreating by the time of my arrival, so I’m not sure.” Connor answered, warily eyeing the group of men.

“You there! You are the android Connor, aren’t you?” The same man demanded with an accusative tone that Hank didn’t like one bit. “The traitor who helped the rogue androids?!”

“Watch that tongue if you want to keep it, you little shit,” Hank snarled, having Connor to place a placating hand on his arm, which he promptly ignored, “The fuck y’all want with him?”

“This does not concern you, Lieutenant Anderson. Please step away from the machine.”

Hank’s expression contorted with fury as Connor felt his stress levels rise considerably. If this was another situation, he would have pounced at the men and have them subdued by now, but he couldn’t risk to do so with Hank right by his side.

Instead, he decided to resort to his negotiator skills, subtly stepping in front of the seething lieutenant, “Yes, I am Connor. Who do I owe the pleasure?”

“Shut up! You are coming with us!” The man ordered, causing Connor to arch a brow, “President Warren has issued an order for the apprehension of the deviant leaders, so surrender yourself or we will open fire.”

That last bit caused Connor’s readings to spike from 30% to 60% really quickly, “Don’t!” He rose his hands, feeling Hank’s tension to grow beside him, “I’m sure we can discuss this without the guns.”

“This is the last warning, you fucking heap of plastic!” The guard hissed, “Step forward!”

“Hank, run.” Connor whispered, eyes never leaving the barrel of the treatening guns aimed at him and his partner, “I’ll distract them.”

“Fuck that!” Hank growled, “You can’t just come back to life like you used to if these idiots gun you down, Connor.”

“Hank, _please_ ,” Connor begged, his tone urgent while the men placed their fingers on the triggers, “I can handle this.”

The lieutenant released a huff, eyes narrowed with concern as he slowly stepped aside, being completely ignored by the armed men who continued to aim at Connor.

“Step forward at once!” The guard barked again, causing Connor to fidget in place. Hank was still in the line of fire, “Are you deaf, tin can?!”

“I can guarantee you that my hearing module is properly functional,” he attempted a snark response. Hank was a bit farther now, “I am unsure, however, why Madam President was so hasty on sending her men after us after the grand speech of recognizing us as another source of intelligent life?”

“That does not concern you, but you’ll do exactly as we say and bring us to where the deviant Markus is.”

Connor’s expression hardened while his jaw clenched. Markus was definitely off limits, “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“You are not in a position to deny anything, you damn robot. Surrender immediately or we’ll open fire.”

Connor smirked. His fighting modules already set while his pre-construction mode started to build around him. They could shoot, Hank was already within a safe distance by now and he could just dodge the bullets. It wouldn’t be too much of an effort.

“No,” he declared, “I’m not taking you anywhere.”

As expected. The sound of gunshots rippled through the air, immediately sending Connor into simulation mode as he allowed his highly developed sensors to pinpoint the trajectory of the bullets, but something was amiss.

His readings accused the bullets of coming from behind, not from the rifles of the guard ahead of him.

“CONNOR!” Hank’s voice pierced through his simulation, forcing him back to reality as he was forcefully tackled to the floor.

Time seemed to freeze – only this moment it wasn’t caused by his sophisticated programming.

Brown eyes became wide once they paused on Hank’s still form. _Oh no._

The soldiers yelled something, but Connor couldn’t bother to pay them any mind while he frantically removed the lieutenant’s unmoving body off of him and noticed the holes on his jacket – holes which were currently oozing blood.

“H-Hank?” Connor croaked, obtaining no answer. The air suddenly seemed too thick for his manufactured lungs to take in, “Hank?!”

Bright red signs flashed before his eyes.

**> > Warning. Level of stress: 78%^**

Desperation settled in as Connor tried to understand what had just happened. In a fraction of a second, he managed to detect the sniper standing on the roof of a nearby building, now aiming a red light to his chest.

The guards… They were only a diversion. This was not a mission to apprehend the deviant leaders, this was an execution. President Warren had issued the order for Markus and Connor to be put down.

And Hank, who probably noticed the sniper before Connor could, placed himself in harm’s way in order to protect him.

Connor felt desperation settle in, devouring his insides and twisting the wires surrouding his heart. _This is my fault._

**> > Warning! Level of stress: 89%^**

“Quick, get to him before–”

He didn’t register himself getting up. He didn’t register when he closed the distance between him and the humans, grabbing the offending guard’s face and smashing the plastic helmet into his skull with his bare hands, producing a sicknening noise. He didn’t register the choking scream the man uttered before having his neck snapped, nor how the others shouted in fear and attempted to shoot him. Connor also didn’t register how he evaded every single bullet while mercilessly colliding his fists and feet against the amored bodies; synthetic skin receding in his knuckles and feet as he continuously assaulted the protection surrounding their bodies until the sound of bone being shattered could be detected by his sharp hearing.

He was on complete autopilot while his hands moved to the closest rifle, fingers pressing the trigger and emptying the gun’s cartridge on the guards who were still standing, painting the floor with an ominous shade of crimsom that also attatched itself to his clothes and the previously pristine skin of his face; the swirling red of his LED becoming one with the sticky substance.

It was ironic how the warnings flashing before his eyes were as red as the blood covering his body.

**> > Critical. Level of stress: 90%^**

The sniper aimed, but Connor had already pulled the trigger. A body fell off a distant building.

**> > Critical. Level of stress: 92%^**

He quickly rushed back to Hank, frantically scanning his wounds and attempting to diagnose the damage. But he couldn’t, his readings became haywire and his system was not even close of being optimal to run any kind of scan. The RK800 fumbled desperately with the body of his partner, whose breathing was alarmingly weak.

“Hank?! Hank!” He heard himself call, over and over again, until Hank’s eyelids trembled open.

“Oh… You’ll follow me… even to hell… huh?”

“You are not dead!” Connor quickly assured him, his voice box cracking slightly as he tried to make the man as comfortable as possible, “You are not dying, just hang in there. I’ll get help.”

Hank released a small chuckle, which was followed by a spurt of blood that tinged the android’s attire with red even further, “Ah, shit…”

“W-why did you do this?! I told you I can take care of myself–!”

“Whenever… you died…” Hank attempted, intensifying Connor’s distressed expression even more, “And came back… I thought of Cole.”

If the wires around his regulador got any tighter, Connor was sure it would get crushed at any second.

“I never… Had my boy back… You know?” Another cough, and more blood colored Connor’s tie, “You I did… You I… Wouldn’t lose…”

“Hank…” Connor croaked, his tone pleading and broken while tears rolled down his cheeks.

“But now… it’s not like that… I can lose… you… like I lost… Cole,” Hank was fading, his voice becoming weaker at every word, “I couldn’t… allow…”

Silence.

“Hank?” Connor asked, tone supplicant, “Hank?!”

Hank didn’t answer this time.

“No, no no, no please,” The RK800 panicked, attempting once again to scan the wounds. To check his heart. To know if he was _alive._

**> > CRITICAL WARNING! LEVEL OF STRESS: 100% **

An anguished holler erupted from his voice box, echoing with static through the silent city of detroit and startling anyone who was near.

Hank was not breathing.

* * *

 

Back in the Hart Plaza, Markus fell on his knees once a sudden wave of pain riped through his body and pitiful sobbing invaded his mind, causing it to explode with all kinds of alarms.

He heard Josh ask something but he couldn’t focus on the PJ500’s words. Once the shock passed, dread settled inside his chest cavity once he immediately detected the source of the channel that had been ripped open inside his head.

“Connor?”

**Author's Note:**

> *massages chest*
> 
> I'm. So. Sorry.


End file.
